Home is...

Although probably overused in my world, this saying encapsulates our current living situation so well.  Bella's been trying to make sense of our new "home" for the next 6 weeks.  While walking around on base, trying to find the library, she looked at me and asked for the hundredth time, "Mama, why are we here??"
"Because, Sweetie, Daddy's work brought him here and we wanted to be near Daddy.  So we came with him."
"Why?"
"Because if we can be with Daddy, we need to be with him.  We're a family... we want to be together."
"But why?"
"Well... would you rather be in Kansas without Daddy, or here with him?"
"HERE WITH HIM!!!"
"Yep, I thought so.  And that's why we're here."
"Mama?  Can I have some gum?"
"Nope.  I left it at the home, so we can maybe get some when we get back from our walk."
"Is our home that little, tiny hotel?"
"Yep.  For now it is."
"Why?"
.... and so on and so forth.

We continue to have conversations like this, and each time, she amazes me with her resiliency and her little life thus far.  Her childhood is going to look sooo different than mine did.  "Home" is going to mean something different to her than it did to me.  Her friends will be numerous, and established quickly.  No time to dilly-dally.  If you want companionship, make friends fast.  I've been here for 48 hours and I've already got a passel of ladies with whom I would leave my girls, if necessary.  The military family is a tight-knit one.

One shy woman met us moms at the park yesterday.  Childless and obviously feeling out of her element, we welcomed her anyway.  What's your name?  Where are you stationed?  Do you know so-n-so??  What does your husband do? the necessary questions are posed first.  Newly married, she is new to the whole Air Force world.  "Oh good!" I thought, "Me too.  We can bond over being 'new'."  Then it struck me: I'm not new.  I've been in for 5 years.  I know what PCS, TDY, BDU, ABU, reclama, Monday Blue's, PMCR, sorties, and all the other "language" means.  I can name any [AF] jet correctly in seconds.  I can detect a T-1, T-6, T-38, F-16, B-2, KC-135, C-17 flying in the sky by the sound of the engines alone.  I struggle with the clash of independency and needing my husband.  I know what it's like to feel tongue-tied when one asks innocently, So, where're you from??  I'm fully submersed in the military world.  Wow... it hadn't really occurred to me.

And for our children, this will all be normal.  That's what boggles my mind.  While new and foreign to me, it fits.  It feels [mostly] comfortable, especially when we're all together.  That's why these next 6 weeks we will call this "little, tiny hotel" room home, because we are all together.  We have a Daddy, a Mama, and two crazy girls.  We get each other.  We get that Mama has a hard time relinquishing control when Daddy gets back from trips.  We get that Mama will cry - a lot - during those times.  We get that Daddy may or may not get easily frustrated with childish ways and crying while home in between trips.  We get that although the girls dote on Daddy, really... Mama is the only one that seems stable.  We get that we are resilient, but we still need our certain things: like silkies and favorite shoes, familiar perfume and that one brand of bread.  We may all be sleeping on top of each other, but we're home.  Together, we are home.